


Broken Christmas Lights

by noirchime



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Pacifist Route, T-SLUR, Trans Mettaton, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 02:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5522039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noirchime/pseuds/noirchime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mettaton breaks down in tears at a Christmas party, Sans is the only one to notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Christmas Lights

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on Christmas Eve while lying in bed and thinking of Mettasans. Enjoy.

Sans was never one to be very involved at parties. Every year, he and Papyrus were invited to Alphys and Undyne’s annual Christmas party, and every year Sans found himself sitting alone in their living room, alone with his thoughts.

It was quite ironic that his own brother was such a contrast to Sans’ own behaviour. Papyrus would be off somewhere alongside the other guests, surrounded by those who cared about him. Of course, since they had moved to the surface, Alphys and Undyne had begun to invite some of their human friends, and more and more guests showed up every year. They had even been made to move the party outside as a result of the overwhelming numbers.

Sans had never found the thought of a crowd appealing. It wasn’t that he was antisocial, or that he hated being around friends and family. He simply saw no purpose in celebrating alongside the others when he could lie back on Alphys and Undyne’s plush sofa and take a long nap.

He had almost dozed off when the sound of hushed voices caught his attention. Blinking open a single eyesocket, he made his way to the doorframe and listened.

“If this is another request for an autograph, I’m very sorry, darling, but I am quite preoccu-“  
Sans heard a loud thump followed by a quieter whimper as the speaker was slammed against the wall with a thunk. From their voice, he could tell that it was Mettaton, and that the other speaker was human.

“Why would I want an autograph from a filthy liar like you?” the second voice growled, closer to Sans than he had previously thought.  
“Word is, Mettaton, that you’re a _fucking tranny_.” He snarled.

Sans could almost feel Mettaton trembling at his words. He clenched a bony fist, feeling something deep within his left eyesocket blaze with anger.

“That's fucking _disgusting_. You're a fake,” The human snarled.

Sans heard a small whimper as the man struck Mettaton, sending him to the floor with a thump.  
“The act’s over, you piece of shit. Get real. You’re not a man. You couldn’t be if you tried. Hell, if you ask me, the Doctor shouldn’t have bothered with that new body. Filthy liars like you are _better off dead_.”

Sans heard the crackling of static, loud enough that it was clear even through the wall. Mettaton was gonna blast that bastard right into next week.

To his shock, he only heard the thumping of boots on carpet as Mettaton sprinted down the hall towards the door. Before he could react, Mettaton had fled the house, leaving the man behind in the hallway.

Sans felt his eye flicker in the darkness of the empty living room before he stepped out into the hall. His seemingly perpetual grin had disfigured into a grimace of pure anger as the human’s perversely sick laughter echoed through the hallway.

He faced the man, who was now grinning maliciously at him.

A blue light filled the hall as he flung the human into the wall with all the force he could muster.

“Get out of here. And never, ever get near him again.”

As soon as Sans was sure that the man had returned to the party, he turned to face the still-open door from where Mettaton had fled. Before he knew what he was doing, Sans found himself halfway down the street, calling Mettaton’s name. It was snowing hard, and unlike the shelter of Alphys and Undyne’s gazebo, there was nothing to shield Mettaton from the cold. His temperature needed to be regulated for his body to function.

Finally, he caught sight of a trembling silhouette not far off, curled up in a ball in a muddy ditch of sleet and ice.

“M-Mettaton..?” he called softly, unsure of what to expect from the star.

With a jolt, he realised that ice had begun to form on the frigid figure, and rushed over to Mettaton’s side.

“H-here, dunno much about robots… but here, take my jacket.” He mumbled, fear evident in his shaky voice.

He shed his jacket quickly, and without skipping a beat, wrapped it around Mettaton.

Sans jumped from surprise as Mettaton shot up, his breathing erratic and forced.

“Hey, buddy, it’s ok, just breathe. I got ya..” he coaxed, letting a bony hand rest on Mettaton’s shoulder.

Mettaton whipped around to face him, tears streaming from his eyes.  
“S-Sans..?”

“Yeah, it’s me, and we’re gonna get you home, ok?” he replied shakily, taking Mettaton’s hand.

He saw Mettaton give a faint nod before he sent them through another one of his shortcuts. It lead straight to his and Papyrus’ living room, where Mettaton then collapsed to the floor.

“Mettaton!” he gasped, as the star himself began to sob uncontrollably.

He threw Sans’ jacket off in one spasmodic thrust, rage boiling in his sharp pink eyes. Tears still dripped from his chin as he stared at Sans, clenching his hands into fists. At nearly seven feet, he towered over Sans, an aura of pure rage-stricken and livid anger about him.

“Why would you even want to help me?!” he yelled, sending Sans flying into the coffee table with a hard blow to his ribcage. Too stunned to respond, Sans lay crumpled against the hard glass, eyesockets closed tight.

Mettaton had tried to speak once again, but the building static in his speakers had worsened. His speech completely drowned out, the robot began to thrash about fitfully, sending objects flying across the room.

He threw pictures, books, a chair and even his own boot at Sans, who lay under the wreckage in utter shock.

With one final incoherent screech, Mettaton kicked down the Christmas tree, sending it crashing down into Sans’ cowering form.

Panting and heaving, Mettaton stood in the middle of the living room, tears freely falling from his wide eyes. He looked around in terror, having realised what he had done.

Broken ornaments and smashed photo frames covered the carpeted floor, and strings of broken lights and torn book pages littered the entire room. The furniture had been knocked aside in Mettaton’s fury, in its place the Christmas tree and the limp figure of Sans. Mettaton took a shaky gasp as he stared at the skeleton.

“Oh my god… Sans…” he choked out, hands trembling. Mettaton was terrified, fully knowing that his own fury had caused so much harm to his friend, who had only been trying to help him.

He collapsed to his knees beside Sans, and threw himself towards his lifeless frame, shaking Sans in a panicked attempt to re-awaken him.

“Sans!” Mettaton shrieked, shaking the shorter figure frantically.

Mettaton felt a weak rumbling as Sans let out a faint chuckle, wrapping an arm around Mettaton.

“I’m here, buddy.”

Shaking from both relief and remaining fear, Mettaton flung his arms around Sans, curling them around him in a tight embrace.

“I-I’m so sorry.. I didn’t want to… I just couldn’t..” Mettaton choked mid-word, breath hitching.

 

“Hey. It’s cool. That asshole was awful to you, Metta. Took some real guts to walk away from someone that nasty.”

Mettaton looked at Sans in shock.

“Y-you heard all of that? So you know then..” he murmured, eyes boring into the floor.

Sans slung an arm around Mettaton, looking up at him with a rare smile.  
“Mettaton. No matter what he said, you’re still you. Hell, you’re one thousand times the person he’ll ever be. I don’t care what body you were born in. You’re stunning either way.” Sans confessed, rubbing the back of his neck with a shaky hand.

Mettaton felt more tears well in his eyes as he locked eyes with Sans.  
“Y-you really mean it?” he asked, voice almost inaudible.  
“Uh huh.”

Mettaton noticed his own breathing evening out as he held Sans, his trembling limbs beginning to find comfort around Sans’ small figure.

“How do you do it Sans?” he asked suddenly, turning his gaze to the floor.  
“Huh?”  
“Emotions, I mean.” Mettaton clarified, looking down to face Sans directly.

“I-it takes a good actor to know one. I know just how often that grin of yours masks something else within you.” he admitted, feeling Sans tremble slightly.

To Mettaton’s shock, Sans had begun to shake.

“I-it’s... it's just hard, you know? Everyone seems so happy.. even when they know they’re just stuck in an infinite tangle of t-timelines… Better to just suffer on my own.. right?”

Mettaton brought Sans in close to him, letting the small skeleton rest his head on his shoulder to steady him.

“Sans.. I’m so sorry.. “  
“Don’t be.” Sans replied, voice loud and clear. Mettaton looked down at him in confusion.

“Y’know, M-Metta, you’ve really helped me through all this. I was sure the kid was gonna turn on us at any instant.. but they pulled through in the end. I didn’t know what to do.. until I saw you. You just kept on smiling, kept making others smile… no matter the odds. Y-you sorta inspired me to do the same, y’know? A-and Mettaton…” Sans continued, giving him a grim look.

Sans sighed, and with one final nervous glance at the ground he took Mettaton’s hand.  
“M-Metta.. I didn’t know what I felt when we first became friends. I thought you were just after Pap.. but I realised that that's just you. Never seen you talk honestly around anyone but me, and I kinda found myself doing the same. Soon enough, you got me. W-wasn’t just friendship, at least to me.” he finished, looking away in shame.

Mettaton felt his cheeks heat up as Sans described his feelings, only returning his words with a shocked silence. He lifted a hand to Sans’ face, brushing his skull with a hand. Sans shivered involuntarily as Mettaton came closer.

“S-Sans.. is that really how you feel?” Mettaton asked, meeting his gaze.

“Y-yeah..” Sans sighed dejectedly, knowing the rejection that would come.  
In one sudden movement, Mettaton had pressed his lips to Sans’ mouth, wrapping coils of his arms around him. He felt his own blush deepen as Sans boldly return the gesture as best he could, before breaking away suddenly.

“M-Metta…”  
“Sans, I love you too.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sans saw part of the Christmas tree that Mettaton had destroyed in his panic, a string of broken Christmas lights trailing from a snapped branch. A single flickering bulb lit up the dim space, shining brightly in the darkness.  
The light was bright, loud, colourful, but he could see that it was also very fragile, vulnerable even, protected only by its glass casing.

He looked from the light to the robot holding him close, and let out a contented sigh of relief.

“Hey, Mettaton?”  
“Yes, Sans?”  
“Merry human Christmas.”

Mettaton giggled knowingly, and scooped Sans up in his arms, sitting down in the couch with Sans in his lap.

“You stay there, Mettababe. I’ll go get us a blanket.” Sans told him, smirking as he saw Mettaton flush pink.

“Mettababe?” he heard Mettaton mumble excitedly, holding a hand to his heart.

When he returned with the blanket, he saw that Mettaton had already plugged himself in, preparing to sleep. He looked up happily as Sans arrived, extending an arm for him.  
He grabbed the blanket from Sans and spread it over himself, motioning for Sans to lie down next to him.

As soon as Sans took Mettaton’s hand, the robot pulled him in close to his chest and rolled over, grinning giddily. Wrapping sleek, tubular arms around Sans, he faced the skeleton, who was now settled between Mettaton and the back of the couch.

He took in Mettaton’s ever-present scent of bubblegum and perfume, and pressed his mouth to Mettaton’s dark synthetic hair in a kiss.  
“Goodnight, Metta.”  
“Goodnight, Sansy.”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any constructive criticism to offer or feedback in general, comments are appreciated.
> 
> I personally think that Mettaton would be able to cry. If he is programmed to 'feel' a whole spectrum of other emotions, then Alphys would have tried to make them appear as genuine as possible. Maybe something is triggered within him that brings on tears when he 'feels' upset or overly happy.
> 
> I have written a second chapter to this, set the morning after on Christmas day. It's a lot happier than the first one. I'm not sure if I'll post it just yet.


End file.
